Β Β Β β -- iβd say youβre royally screwed, mr. frost. β
though by the looks of it, will graham isnβt far behind. but the angry gush of blood weeping from just below his now shattered clavicle doesnβt quite stunt his distasteful lack of concern for the immediate future. luck has nothing to do with the one-eighty they pulled on each other. his cutting tongue may swathe the perpetual wryness and particularity to his outlook and observations but it underlines the extreme sobriety he is feeling for this, a preemptive strike as it were.Β








